Anny Scoones: In honour of Women’s Day, an ode to three doctors

Last week, I wrote about Stella, the stubborn and “unrepentant madam” from Victoria’s early days. In honour of International Women’s Day, there are three present-day local women I’d like to mention, too. All three are doctors, and two are fine authors.

First, I’d like to dedicate this piece to my own hardworking and selfless physician, Dr. (Tuz) Gooderham, a tireless community volunteer with a steady, caring and calm approach to medicine and health. That doesn’t even begin to describe her incredible dedication to her patients’ well-being.

Her clinic used to be the site of a ­veterinarian and consequently, cats and dogs often appear in her waiting area, the owners unaware that this is now a different type of medical practice (although I’m sure Dr. ­Gooderham could cure all animals!).

When my blood pressure rose — so much so that they repeated the procedure several times — she was not alarmed, but calmly discussed a few options as to how I might lower it. I have eliminated my Friday martini and daily wine (almost). If the pressure is still too high, well, I see no other option than to return to my debauchery and carry on.

For an informative yet moving account of a unique and special medical practice with refugees, I strongly recommend the book Your Heart is the Size of Your Fist by Vancouver doctor Martina Scholtens (2017, Brindle and Glass/Touchwood Editions).

Many of Canada’s refugees require very specific medical care as a result of their horrific backgrounds in war-torn countries.

Dr. Scholtens, with great tenderness and respect, combined with factual accounts, describes several of the diverse cases of her clients (many of whom cannot speak English) as well as her own passionate journey as a doctor in this amazingly necessary and often ignored area of the medical profession.

There are endearing, lighter moments in the author’s recollections, such as her observations of her client’s choice of ­clothing: “tap dance shoes from a thrift store … a ­Justin Bieber backpack on a Syrian senior.”

To carry out her practice, she was allotted a room “positioned between the men’s ­washroom and the exit” at the back of a health facility downtown (it sounds a bit grim, as if it lacks lighting and needs a coat of paint) and notes the symbolism of the location as “the odd orbit of my medical career, on the fringe .…”

Perhaps, although at times lonely, being on the fringe enables us to look with a more observant eye, to assess from afar and achieve (to use a very contemporary word) “clarity” and thereby offer profound ­decisions and ideas.

I am always moved to tears when I witness the swearing-in of new Canadians, all taking the oath, many in broken English, about to embark on a new life in their new home, holding their little paper Canadian flags.

Of course, I have to mention Dr. Bonnie Henry’s encompassing and easy-to-read book Soap and Water & Common Sense (2009, House of Anansi Press).

In her fascinating account of viruses, bacteria, parasites and fungi, you will read about Typhoid Mary, John Snow’s cholera map (an amazing 1854 London city map linking houses where there were ­cholera outbreaks with neighbourhood water pumps that were close to the polluted river), Edward Jenner and the milkmaid that supposedly inspired the first smallpox vaccine, and germ-theory and vaccine pioneer Louis Pasteur’s work with the silk and wine sectors in France.

There’s even a mention of one of my heroes, Catherine the Great, who took the smallpox vaccine to prove to her skeptical population that the inoculation prevented the horrid disease.

Then the story takes a more modern turn to hot tubs, chocolate production, the ­industrialization of the beef industry, the effects of climate change on shellfish, and global food shipping, among other notable modern issues.

The mention of botulism brought back memories of the Saanich Fair, when I entered my pickled egg and the judges wrote a horrid little note on my tag for all to see: “Lid not sealed — may cause botulism.” I was never so humiliated!

Today, according to the book, there is an antitoxin treatment for this awful infliction (I ate my eggs and was fine) made from horse antibodies.

However, we must remember the author’s wise words in her title: “common sense.” The book is informative, not meant to frighten us (although you may not want to shave your legs before a pedicure), and Dr. Henry’s advice for the common cold is to “never underestimate the healing power of chicken soup to provide comfort and relieve suffering.”

Perhaps common sense will lower my blood pressure. As Dr. Bonnie would put it, be kind, stay safe and remain CALM, CALM, CALM.